


Fall

by Retro Lipstickcat (Lipstickcat)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lipstickcat/pseuds/Retro%20Lipstickcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The consequences of giving in to urges</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in 2004 - I'm transferring it to this archive unedited.

They’d both expected Aziraphale to fall. Neither had spoken it aloud out of some misplaced hope that if they didn’t mention it, maybe those who were in charge wouldn’t notice.

Crowley had held back his desires for so many years. He’d denied them, ignored them, distracted them, and when all else failed, he’d hit his hand repeatedly with a hammer. But ultimately, his needs didn’t fade; they grew and developed, and secretly he nurtured them because he liked how Aziraphale made him feel. However, he liked the angel and he didn’t want to be the cause of his ruin, his fall from grace.

As it turned out, Aziraphale returned his feelings with just as much fervour. He’d been thinking about it for two centuries now. It was a long time to consider such things. Would falling be so bad? Crowley seemed to cope with his life quite well. Enjoy it even. He’d miss the perfection of Heaven and the all encompassing love of God. But maybe Hell wouldn’t be so bad if he had Crowley by his side.

Lust was a sin. Not the worst, but still a sin. Still something angels should be oblivious to.

And it was most certainly Lust; the hot sweaty bodies, flesh slapping against flesh. Writhing and touching and crying out each other’s names. Wild abandon and passion. In the throes of Lust, they became as one.

But Lust wasn’t the only thing to form their union.

The change was slow. It crept up on them as they rested in the bed that they had made, Aziraphale lying against Crowley’s chest, their lungs heaving because they were still too far gone to realise that they didn’t have to be out of breath. He could feel it, softly burning him from the inside out, and he was scared at first. He didn’t understand. Something altered deep inside of him; he was still the same being as before, but sides had changed. He held his beloved tight and cried hot tears.

Neither had realised that Love was involved. They’d felt the overwhelming power of desire and had made assumptions. But Love was all consuming, all forgiving.

Crowley thought that an eternity in the boring perfection of Heaven wouldn’t be so bad with Aziraphale by his side. It occurred to him later that no one had said that the angel would have to fall.


End file.
